The High King: Book Two of the 'Riothamus' trilogy (33 page)

*

As predicted,
the cavalry reached the general ambush point whilst the night was
still far advanced, and well before there was any hint of dawn in
the sky. However, the last hour had brought a change in the
weather, and now scattered clouds were scuttling across the sky,
occasionally obscuring the light from the two moons.

“It will snow
later on,” predicted Bini swinging off his horse and landing
lightly onto the dry grass.

Aran looked up
at the massing clouds and frowned, “As soon as it is dawn we must
start digging the pits.” He turned to his officers and commanders
who had only just ridden up. “We must move quickly into position.
Can you make certain there are rotated digging teams at work come
dawn.” He glanced at the sky again, “There is time enough for the
men to catch a few hours sleep now, but we must start the defenses
and diggings as soon as there is light in the sky. Also the
prepared stakes must be brought forward from where they have been
lashed onto the sides of the baggage horses.” He paused, “I know it
will be cold but any fires lit must be small and banked well, and
take care that the men do not use green timber. I would be angry if
the enemy were alerted to our position through carelessness and
neglect for our own watchfulness.”

The officers
and commanders bowed and nodded and departed to see to the
dispersal and arranging of their own troops.

“You are
stern, but fair with them. That is good,” Bini stated after they
had left. He turned back to his horse and pulled off the saddle and
carefully gave the mare a rubdown.

Aran glanced
across at the plainsman, “Do you too think I have changed
Bini?”

The warrior
looked up and studied Aran, finally he nodded.

“You are
stronger now I think,” he said at last, “And harder too, but that
is no fault in a commander riding to war.

“Can I be
anything else, Bini?” Aran mused as he took looked to the welfare
of Spirit. “I mean if I am kind and gentle with them will they
still take me seriously as king and commander?” He paused and
looked at the plainsman over the withers of his horse.

“All these
commanders are hard, able and seasoned soldiers and who am I? I may
be the king but I am barely twenty summers old. In their reckoning
I would be considered only a new recruit.”

“Ah, but you
are Riothamus and Warriormage,” Bini replied as he lifted each of
his horses hooves to check for stones and injuries. His task
completed, he looked up at Aran, “Even though you are young in
years lord Arantur, you bear the responsibility and position well.”
He grinned, “In all honesty do you think these veteran soldiers
would follow you so unswervingly if you were lesser a man?” He
shook his head, “I think not. Although you are Riothamus, you speak
words of sense and have much instinctive knowledge about war and
how to fight it. Those men respect you for it and rely much upon
your strength.”

Aran chuckled
mirthlessly, “As I in my turn rely on you, Darven and Alissa for my
strength.”

Bini’s face
softened, “Ah Alissa, she is a fine one and bears her plains
heritage clearly upon her face. You have chosen well in her,
Riothamus. She will give you much strength, love and loyalty.”

Aran smiled at
that, “Bini I must insist that you call me Aran. I may be King and
Riothamus to you, but really I am just an ordinary man who dislikes
titles.”

The plainsman
nodded, “Very well, however you honour me with your name,
Aran.”

*

Dawn came, and
with it the heavy storm clouds forecast only days before by the
ever vigilant Weathermages. Aran only needed one glance at the
threatening weather, and immediately ordered that the small leather
emergency tents be unpacked, and set up as shelters for the
soldiers not actively digging and preparing the traps and
fortifications. True to Alissa’s prediction, the ground was
starting to freeze, and initially digging was difficult. Finally
the teams of soldiers broke through the semi-frozen layer of
ground, and were able to make swifter headway into the courser
grey-brown soil below. By late afternoon Aran took one look at his
weary soldiers dragging themselves around the now broken ground of
the ambush, and called a halt to the digging and ordered them to
take a well-earned rest and a hot meal. Later, whilst walking
amongst the diggings with his officers, Aran saw that the pits were
now over three feet deep, and decided that in the morning the small
stakes would be arranged, and hammered into the bottom of the traps
with their top edges sharpened in preparation for the ambush.

*

With the
increasing cloud cover, night fell suddenly and darkly, and there
were dire predictions from the mage enclave that there would be
heavy snowfalls overnight. Aran sat with his friends and commanders
around the small fires and in low voices discussed the plans for
the morrow, and all ventured opinions as to when the Thakur would
be sighted. Most said that the ambush had to be ready by dusk
tomorrow, however Aran felt that the defenses and traps needed to
be complete by midday. Pulling his fur lined cloak closer about
him, and jamming his felted wool hat about his ears, Aran stared
into the night and felt sure, with his senses attuned to the
darkness and quiet, that the Thakur would be upon them by early
afternoon.

“If it snows
heavily it will slow them,” Bini said at last, after listening to
the low conversation. “If they have been abusing their horses they
will not be able to push for speed through any heavy early winter
snow. In fact…” and he paused, “I would advise that our army leaves
the horses behind once the cavalry has made the first breach into
the Thakurian ranks.”

Aran nodded,
“I have been thinking along the same lines. This snow will be heavy
and slushy, and the horses will soon churn up the ground turning it
into a quagmire. Once the first ranks of the enemy are down, then
the horses must be abandoned and the fight continued on foot.” He
looked up and saw nodded confirmation from the other
commanders.

Immediately
Legion Commander Terdec leant forward. His tanned and lined face
was eager with anticipation for the coming battle. “The Thakur will
have spent and exhausted horses, and they will be easily brought
down by well-placed attacks,” he said. “We must let the land work
for us, and once the ground has become loose and slippery, we must
dismount for our mounts will then only hinder us…”

“I agree,”
Captain Taran was reflectively chewing his thumbnail. “The Guard is
well trained in hand-to-hand combat. I heartily dislike the idea of
fighting on horseback in such treacherous conditions, but we need
to first break the initial Thakurian ranks.”

He looked
across at Terdec and his eyes narrowed, “You spoke earlier of
mounted Legion cavalry trained in the use of javelins and
spears?”

The overall
Legion Commander nodded, “Aye, it is one of our primary training
techniques…”

Captain Taran
smiled a tight smile, “Can we use these legio in the first sweep
from the sides, to harass the enemy and drive them towards the
traps and stakes?”

Terdec nodded,
“Aye, as long as my horsemen are kept away from the traps. I’d soon
as not lose men to our own defenses.”

“That can
easily be arranged,” Aran said immediately. “It may be difficult to
fly in this weather, but Earthmage Drayden has agreed to scout
ahead for us, and give us a detailed report on the enemy’s
progress. We will know in advance where and when to set the cavalry
for the ambush to be fully effective.”

“How else will
the mages assist?” Darven asked, whilst brushing from his heavy
cloak the first fallen snowflakes. “How will they contribute to the
ambush?”

Aran saw the
white flakes upon his own cloak, and looking up into the night sky
saw that the snow was already getting heavier.

“The Archmage
has informed me that when they have received word that the Thakur
are only an hour or so away, they will then create a dense ground
fog to disguise our traps and hide our soldiers,” Aran answered.
“Although falling snow and fog are rarely seen together, they may
think it a peculiarity of the region and dismiss it. That is when
we strike.”

“Will the fog
clear away so our own troops don’t fall into the traps?” Darven
asked.

Aran nodded,
“The mages insist that it will hold long enough for the ambush to
be concealed. Then they will alter the spells and bring in the
natural west wind to disperse it.”

“So where are
the mages now?” Terdec asked, looking about him.

“Sleeping…resting,” said a voice from the darkness.

The gathered
men jumped nervously at the sudden voice, and looked fearfully into
the snow-swirling gloom. Immediately the white hooded and cloaked
Archmage loomed into view.

“The weather
will make the creating and casting of the fog spells difficult, so
the mages are resting to conserve their magepower for the attack.”
Maran said, whilst holding his aged hands over the feeble warmth
generated by the fire. “As I have said before, the mages must work
within the natural laws, and it takes a great deal of power to halt
the natural winds and movement of the snow and contain so large a
storm front, in order to keep the fog from breaking early.”

He stared at
the soldiers, “To you gentlemen, it may seem a simple thing for the
mages to induce a ground fog, but to do so in this season, with
snow storms close upon us will require long and complicated
spelling, and great uses of the magepower.”

“Anything that
can be done will be an advantage to us,” Captain Taran said
quietly. “For only the Goddess knows how we will fare on the
morrow…”

*

“We have
received word!”

Aran
straightened and saw Archmage Maran approaching, as Alissa secured
the last of the buckles and clasps of the plate armour on his legs,
and reached for the heavy quilted gambeson.

“So?” he asked
as his blond head emerged from under the dark blue cloth. “What is
the news?”

Maran leant
over, and with some effort picked up Aran’s mail hauberk,
wordlessly he handed it over.

“High
Earthmage Drayden tells me the Thakur are advancing along this
course and will be reaching the first of our traps and defenses in
two to three hours.”

Aran looked
up, “What are their numbers?”

“Drayden
estimates a little over two thousand cavalry.”

Aran nodded at
the news, and carefully arranged the heavy folds of the chainmail
hauberk in his hands. Quickly donning it, he belted it firmly
around his waist, and attached the scabbarded King’s Sword to the
leather.

“The arming
cap, mail coif and aventail now Alissa,” he said. “They are there
upon the saddlebag…”

Alissa nodded
and picked up the headgear.

“Do they ride
fast, despite this heavy snow?”

Maran nodded,
“They seem to have no care for their mounts. Drayden said that he
has seen a number of dead horses behind this Thakurian advance
force, and that many are riding double on already overworked and
weary horses.”

Aran’s face
tightened, “I see in this the mind of their Warleader. With this
magepower of hers she drives them on with no thought to how they
will fare once the horses drop beneath them.”

“They are
driven indeed,” Maran agreed. “The commanders must be warned that
the Thakur will not fight like ordinary men. With the mage strength
of the Warleader within them, they will be hard to overcome.”

Aran nodded,
“I have warned them. However despite being mage driven they are but
mortal men, and we have the advantage of the ambush.”

*

Aran stood
with the silent ranks of the Guard in the thickening fog, and
stretched out his awareness to find the enemy. Almost immediately
he found them, and then instantly drew away.

“They are more
to our right,” he snapped to one of the legio messengers. “Take
immediate word to your commanders that once the enemy is sighted
the Legions must sound the horns and push the Thakur further left.”
He glanced up at the cavalryman who was already swinging the head
of his horse around, “Take care for your safety soldier, and make
certain you are not seen by the enemy.”

The legio
saluted and cantered off into the thickening mist, somehow finding
the right direction to his fellow soldiers despite the gloom.

“I cannot hear
them yet,” Darven said quietly.

“I am not
surprised,” Aran replied. “This fog seems to swallow all sound as
well as sight.”

Aran felt a
movement by his side and he looked down to see Alissa emerge from
the mist.

“Where are
they?” she asked.

Aran pointed,
“To our forward right. They have slowed with the fog but they still
drive their horses hard.”

Alissa stared
out into the fog and the heavily falling snow, “I wonder what they
are thinking?” she mused.

“Most likely
cursing the fog and snow, and wishing for their warm beds,” Darven
remarked dryly, “Although if they are really mage driven, they may
be thinking of nothing much at all.” he added ironically.

Aran turned to
Alissa, “You must return to the mages. I cannot allow you to fight
here.”

Alissa nodded,
“I was just going. I only wanted to tell you look after yourself
and that I love you and should anything happen….”

Aran swung
around, and picking up Alissa, held her to him and kissed her hard,
stopping her words completely. For a moment they clung together,
and then Aran regretfully put her gently down. With his helmeted
head close to hers, and his gauntleted hands framing her face, he
urged her to go.

“Alissa, I
will fight easier knowing that you are safe behind us with the
mages.” He smiled grimly, “Although you wear a mail hauberk for
your protection, it still does not give you leave to fight with the
Guard. Instead keep safe and assist the Healermages when the first
of the injured are brought in.”